"Graduated – can you believe it?" The speaker was sprawled on her bed, her bare feet at the pillow and her head at the opposite end. She wore faded blue jeans and a long sleeved tunic blouse of cotton gauze, the same color blue and elaborately hand embroidered in contrasting colors. Her waist-length red hair cascaded over the footboard in loose ringlets. It was that vibrant flame colour possessing the ironic effect of being a source of endless bitterness for those born with it and equally endless envy for those not.
"I suppose we’re all grown up now," her companion answered, a bit sadly. She was about the same age as the other young woman, with hair nearly as long but very straight, and so dark brown that it was commonly mistaken for black. She was dressed much less flambouyantly, in old jeans and a sleeveless lavender sweater.
"Do you think so?" the red head asked, sounding disappointed. She rolled over onto her stomach and rested her chin on the backs of her hands and she gazed intently at the other girl. "I had always thought that to be truly grown up, one had to give up all their eccentricities, their imaginative qualities, and become hideously boring just like everyone else. And you must give up your freedom, at least most of it, to do so. Could you really do that, Sarah?"
The brunette laughed and shook her head. "There’s no question your mother was a flower child! Putting all those crazy ideas into your head. But you can’t be a little kid forever. We’re going to college in a few months," Sarah said excitedly, then immediately wished she had not done so.
"You’re going to college, you mean," the red haired girl muttered, rolling onto her back again. "Besides, I only meant that we shouldn’t give up our awe of things, no matter how simple – did you see how Toby was watching the spider making its web this morning, all shining with dewdrops? I don’t want to become jaded to little miracles. I don’t want to not believe in something just because someone says it’s illogical." Both young women were silent for a long time, lost in thought. "Do you remember when you were 15, and I was 16? The first time we ever spoke to each other?" Her voice was wistful, and barely audible.
"Of course," Sarah answered. "It was the day after you moved in. You refused to talk, it was so soon after the tragedy." The tragedy she spoke of was when her cousin Edana’s parents had been killed in an automobile accident three years ago. Edana’s only relatives were Sarah’s family, on the opposite side of the country, whom she had met only once when they were both little girls.
"So you took me to the forest, where you did all of your thinking and imagining – and do you remember what I said?"
"You looked all around, very satisfied, and said what a wonderful place it would be for a magic kingdom," Sarah laughed. "And I was instantly friends with you."
"Let’s go there!" Edana proposed suddenly, sitting up.
"Now? It’s dark!" Sarah protested.
"Sarah," Edana said schemingly, her green eyes glowing with excitement, "we need to go have an adventure. Even if we have to make the whole thing up. It’s been ages since we went there at night." She looked at the clock. "It’s only ten-thirty. Come on! It’ll be fun!"
Sarah grinned, embracing the idea. "We’ll have to sneak out of the house." Not because her father and stepmother would stop them from leaving, but because it would add so much atmosphere to their game.
They crept downstairs, remembering to avoid the step that squeaked, and even remembered to grab their summer jackets from the hall closet after coaxing open the door. The quick dash past the living room where Sarah’s father and stepmother were watching TV was silly, but accomplishing it without the adults noticing left them giggling and exhilarated. Then it was out the kitchen door, through the mud room and then cluttered garage, past Edana’s third-hand, beat up lavender Volkswagon Beetle that she’d driven from California three years ago. When they had safely reached the yard, the two women collapsed in a fit of giggles and rounds of "I can’t believe we’re doing this!" as they trotted down the street under a full moon. Shortly they reached the path, an overgrown deer trail that no one else knew about. It lead to Sarah’s ‘thinking spot’.
When they reached the place, they sank down upon two flat rocks set against the bases of two large trees. The seats had long ago been crude thrones that they had valued more than if they had been made of gold or silver.
The moonlight offered an indigo cast to everything around them, and it was a very calming effect to look out on their ‘magic kingdom’ late at night. "Have you ever seen anything so lovely?" Edana was whispering, loathe to shatter the peace with her voice.
"It is, isn’t it?" Sarah answered, in the same low tone. They sat there, silently observing the blue world around them. Nocturnal creatures ran past as they grew used to the human intruders and saw that they meant no harm. It was easy to remember all the many hours they had spent, every story they had imagined and acted out, sure of the secrecy of the place since there had never been evidence of trespassers. In the distance, they could hear the eerie sound of owls calling to one another. Sarah shivered at the sound. "Let’s be heading back," she suggested as she stood up. "It’s getting damp anyway."
Edana sighed. She could have stayed there all night, though she was certain it was by now well past midnight. Sarah looked agitated, as though something had distressed her, but Edana did not know what it was. With Sarah, it could be anything. Edana stood up as well, dusting herself off. "Did you hear the owls? It’s such a mournful sound. I always wonder what could possibly make them so sad –"
"I heard them," Sarah interrupted, nearly snapping at her cousin. "Let’s go."
Edana shrugged and turned to follow Sarah, but had only taken a step when she felt the rush of air close to her head that could only mean something had flown past. She paused and turned around, only to see a huge, off white owl land gracefully on a low branch a few feet away. She had never seen a creature so magnificent, not even in her dreams. It sat and looked at her, tilting its head from side to side and making soft owl noises. Edana was transfixed. Had she wished to look away, she could not have done so, but how could she wish to leave such a being? Yet, something about it disturbed her. She was about to take a step closer, her hand extended, palm up, when she was grabbed roughly from behind.
"What are you doing?" Sarah hissed at her in exasperation. "Are you crazy? We have to go home!"
"But Sarah, look at it," Edana said softly.
Sarah did so, and her breath caught in her throat for a second before she dismissed the thought at mere coincidence. "It’s a wild animal, and probably hurt or it wouldn’t come so near to people. You’re lucky I realized you weren’t behind me. You’d probably have been scratched and bitten and gotten rabies from it by now." Or something. "Tell me you weren’t really going to actually touch it?" Edana’s response was to say nothing. "Come on, it’s time to go home." This time, Sarah kept a firm hold on Edana’s arm as she dragged her down the trail.
Edana allowed Sarah to pull her along, but turned several times to see the owl, still perched on the branch, watching her. There was something nagging at her mind, something she felt sure she should know. And suddenly it hit her. The owl’s eyes were like none she had ever seen in a beast before. Mismatched, for one thing – one was blue and one was a hazel-brown. They looked like they belonged in the face of…a human. Her shock at finally figuring out what was bothering her caused her to trip over the steps of the little stone bridge, but since Sarah was still holding on to her she did not fall. "Sorry," she apologized distantly, " I wasn’t paying attention."
"Honestly, Edana," Sarah complained. "Exert a bit of common sense once in a while, will you? I mean, what were you thinking? You know it’s not safe to go near wild animals when they’re acting strangely. And you could at least watch where you’re going through the woods. It’s not exactly a clear trail, you know. And do you realize that now we have to sneak back into the house? I swear, the things I allow you to talk me into!"
If there was any more for Sarah to rail on about, Edana missed it. She tuned her cousin out all the rest of the way home, offering noncommittal "Mmhmm" sounds whenever Sarah paused and seemed to be awaiting a response. She must have missed an important one.
"You are listening to me, aren’t you?" Sarah demanded.
Edana gave her a bored look. "What are you telling me that no one else hasn’t said countless times since I moved here? I’m sorry, I was being irrational, I’ll try not to let it happen again. All right?"
"I just don’t want anything to happen to you. You’re my best cousin."
"That’s because I’m your only cousin – in the state, anyway," Edana corrected her sarcastically. "You have to like me whether you like it or not."
Sneaking back into the house proved to be a simple enough undertaking, since Merlin had recognized their footsteps before they reached the garage door and everyone else was asleep. He did not even bark, only wagged his tail vigorously when they entered his domain. He received friendly pats on the head as Sarah and Edana silently passed by. Soon both young women were in the large room they shared, fast asleep.
